The more secretive a trump card is, the more it should be hidden. Especially if it’s rare but not particularly practical. You can’t gather spilled water back, and once exposed, information cannot be concealed again. The best course is to hide it well and aim for the most critical moment.

Still, if you’re not planning to carry it to the grave, at some point, you have to use it.

So, what am I hiding?

I am, in fact, the Human King.

Of course, that doesn’t mean I’m anything great. This fact has never been of any help to me throughout my entire life.

A king of beasts is supposed to possess great strength that represents each beast and reign over them. That’s the way of the world, the natural order.

Yet, I have no such power.

I don’t even have any way to prove that I’m a king.

No crown, no robe, no throne. I was given nothing.

I’m like a naked king sitting alone in a foreign land. Well, not naked, but still.

"The Human King…?"

Historia looked doubtful. To be fair, calling her doubtful is generous—if Maximilien hadn’t said it seriously, she’d have dismissed it as nonsense.

I stepped forward to dispel Historia’s doubts.

"Yes, I am the Human King. So from now on, address me as 'Your Majesty,' flatter me, and pay me 50% of your earnings as taxes."

"Shut up and be quiet."

"Yes."

See? It doesn’t matter if you’re the Human King if no one recognizes you. You’re useless.

While I kept my mouth shut, the impudent subject continued asking questions at will.

"I’ve heard the Human King doesn’t exist. Humans are the masters of all creatures, capable of choosing their own kings. They are dignified beings that rule over the earth."

"Do you really think that? That humans are dignified?"

A mechanical sneer crept across Maximilien’s face.

"Even someone like you believes such words—what about the rest of the fools? No matter how much one tries to deny it, the truth remains clear. Humans are beasts by nature, and compared to other animals, their only superior trait is being a little stronger. Foolish humans believe themselves to be special, but hope is always distant from the truth."

"But…"

"But! Humans tried to become special through outrageous means! They became ‘special’ by killing their own king with their own hands! They achieved something even beasts wouldn’t dare do! How they managed to kill him, I have no idea!"

For the record, I don’t know either. It happened before I was born.

Even a king can’t know everything that happened before their time.

"How can you prove that Huey is the Human King?"

Exactly. If you’re going to reveal it, at least show some clear evidence. Why operate in secrecy? Why not use all the power at your disposal and proclaim me as king?

Historia asked, and Maximilien, growing more impassioned, responded.

"You can’t!"

"But you, General, seem certain."

"Certain? Not at all! No one is certain! Thanks to killing their king with their own hands, humans have had countless kings! In a world where even a beggar can wear a crown and become a king, how can anyone distinguish the Human King?"

Earlier, he was carefully evaluating me, but now he’s boasting proudly to Historia. He must be the type who feels good when acting knowledgeable.

Not exactly the personality suited for running a secret organization.

"Nonetheless, a king is still a king, a representative of all humans! If a Human King exists, he must be able to understand any human, no matter how twisted or wayward they may be. If it’s human, the king must comprehend it!"

A twisted and wayward human. Hearing this, Historia recalled a certain individual.

‘Rancart. That despicable guy who looked down on others like they were bugs—he was always oddly kind to Huey. And it wasn’t just him. Even the founder, Tyrkanzaka, was particularly mindful of Huey. They were unusually friendly, considering what was shown.’

Hey, how about thinking of yourself while you're at it? What makes you think you’re normal?

While I was silently critiquing her, Maximilien began spewing even more unsolicited information.

"The Human King would surely understand that certain parts of humanity could be replaced with gears! Arms, legs, joints, muscles—they are nothing more than organic machines, and gears can sufficiently replace them! Humans can become even better with gears…!"

Historia recalled her earlier fight with Maximilien.

Just a moment ago, Maximilien appeared piloting the Steel Beetle. His entrance was so loud that Historia had detected him long before he arrived.

Having fought an angel, Historia’s body was far from normal. She wasn’t sure she could even use her artillery gun or Qi bullets, so she opted for guerrilla tactics from a distance.

But Maximilien did not respond. He continued approaching the communications base inside his Steel Beetle. While Historia’s bullets were powerful, they couldn’t penetrate the Level 5 alchemical steel gears of the Steel Beetle. With no other choice, she was forced into close combat.

She faced the Steel Beetle alone, tearing gears apart with her bare hands and barely managing to create an opening. Despite her body being shredded by the gears, she attacked the exposed Maximilien.

Maximilien’s limbs moved in a very peculiar way, as if the gears within him were turning...

"Just like your limbs, General?"

There was no malice in her words. She simply described what she observed during battle.

Yet the most uncomfortable thing in the world is the truth.

The smile disappeared from Maximilien’s face. A tick-tick sound of shifting gears echoed from his mind.

"...I’ve spoken too much. Colonel Historia, as a qualified individual, I trust you understand that I have no intention of harming the Human King."

However, Maximilien’s mechanical tone wasn’t suited to expressing emotion. Historia failed to recognize his discomfort and added another question.

"What are you planning to do with Huey? Surely you have another—ugh…!"

Water overflows because of the final drop before it spills.

Maximilien, irritated, snapped his fingers. The gears moved heavily, pulling Historia’s limbs.

There are bows that use mechanical power to pull the string, and Historia’s body moved just like that. Every twist of the gears bent her spine further, and a tearing scream escaped her lips.

Even as he twisted her limbs, Maximilien’s expression remained unchanged.

"Know your place, Colonel Historia. Your life and death are in my hands. You question the one holding your lifeline? How foolish."

"Aagh! Ghh…!"

"You have the potential to be my ally, but if you keep disappointing me, I may have to reconsider. Allies who don’t know their place are more dangerous than enemies."

It was outright torture. I couldn’t stand it any longer and approached the gears, trying to pull them apart, but of course, it had no effect. Once again, I wondered, what kind of king am I?

Even as I struggled, Maximilien didn’t release his grip.

"Explaining my intentions to a subdued opponent was a pure act of goodwill. But Colonel, you’ve betrayed that goodwill. You understand that, right?"

"Ah. Of course. I understand perfectly. Our dear Historia overstepped her boundaries, didn’t she?"

Time was on my side. So were the clues.

The Steel Beetle, a finely crafted machine of thousands of interlocking gears.

Power? None. It moved solely by the force of Maximilien’s power. To anyone else, it was just a heap of scrap metal, but to Maximilien, it was an irreplaceable weapon.

And here, where his power combined with mechanical force to imprison Historia’s limbs.

Unlike the silken ropes that bound the regressor, the gears applied continuous pressure. Qi manipulation wouldn’t help; the moment you altered your body, the gears would squeeze tighter.

"...But, escape tricks are most dramatic when they seem impossible."

With that, I grabbed the gears near Historia’s legs with both hands. Maximilien’s eyes grew cold.

‘Is he trying to loosen the gears? Foolish—if he knew how the Steel Beetle worked, he’d realize this is a pointless effort. Does he not understand?’

I understood. Based on what I’d read, to loosen these gears with human strength, you’d have to dismantle the Steel Beetle piece by piece, starting from the tail. It was impossible.

Maximilien, who knew this better than anyone, spoke with faint disappointment.

"Don’t disappoint me too, Huey. The Steel Beetle cannot be moved by strength alone."

"I know."

If it only moved with strength, it would be impossible. The Steel Beetle could only be moved by Maximilien’s power.

"You think whining will make me stop? If you expect me to change my mind because you’re throwing a fit—"

Screech.

A sound that should never have been heard reached Maximilien’s ears, and he fell silent. Realizing he hadn’t grasped the situation, he belatedly inspected what was happening.

The gears were moving. In reverse.

This wasn’t achieved through brute strength. I didn’t have that kind of power. Even Tyrkanzaka couldn’t overcome the force exerted by the Steel Beetle’s gears through pure physical strength alone. This machine, crafted by a mad genius over the course of years, amplified even the smallest gesture a thousandfold.

There was only one way to move it. Using Maximilien’s own power—his unique magic to control the gears.

"...!"

Maximilien was shocked. His mechanical mind couldn’t keep up with the enormity of what was happening.

The gears, which should have been completely under his control, the gears that could only move by his will, were now turning against him. His ultimate weapon, the Steel Beetle, was slipping from his grasp.

'Could it be…? The Human King, can even control unique magic…!'

It only took him a few seconds to regain his composure, but that was enough.

Historia’s body sprang free. As the force from the gears lessened, her right leg and right arm slipped out easily. From there, the rest followed suit. Before I could even touch the remaining gears, Historia roughly pulled herself out of them.

Having regained her freedom in an instant, Historia stumbled to the ground. I waited until she landed safely, then raised both my arms and shrugged with a grin.

"Ta-da! Did you enjoy that? An escape trick! A round of applause, please!"

As I shouted proudly, Maximilien, his eyes wide, raised both hands. Historia, sensing an attack, braced herself, but it wasn’t an attack.

Maximilien turned one hand sideways, and with his right hand, he began to clap. The applause was so intense that it made Historia lower her defensive stance in disbelief.

Finally, an audience that knows how to appreciate a good performance.